We came home from a GREAT Thanksgiving trip yesterday. We managed to miss the bad weather, but ended up smack in a large traffic jam in the middle of nowhere. DId you know there can be enormous traffic jams in the middle of nowhere? There can. Even with adroit maneuvers utilizing access roads, we still were there for at least 45 minutes. A lady my mother talked to was there for twice that long, so yea for adroit maneuvering and all. For 20 of these minutes i drove along behind two frat boys who mooed out their windows at all the cows we slowly passed. The cows and I were not amused by their wit.

When we finally got home, the neighborhood was VERY still and calm and no one was around, as we pulled into the driveway. (Which is how I like it. I don’t want to know neighbors, see them, obligatory-wave at them – none of that. and if you can’t relate to that, GOOD. I know you’re nicer than I am. I am perfectly fine with that.) So when we unloaded and brought stuff in, trip after trip, because 6 of us took 2 cars and don’t ask. But it was a LOT of stuff to bring in. At one point, J-Mom and I are standing in the driveway, alone. The 3 rowdy boys and Mike are inside. (They’re not ALWAYS rowdy, but after being in a car forever, yes. They are.) We’re tired. We’re not talking.

And our eyes meet. We hear something. Something BAD.

“Is that…?” I ask.

She nods.

I look around, but the neighborhood is empty.

“But where is it coming from?”

J-Mom looks around, and points to the newly Christmasy decorated house across the intersection. It has little icicle lights, and they’re on, even though it isn’t dark yet. It looks deserted, but festive. I’m a fan of Christmas lights, and these are cute. But looking at this house, I feel somehow as if we are in a cartoon. Because? Coming from this house is really bad Christmas music. From speakers, I suppose, hidden somewhere.

I HATE IT.

I’m not big on Christmas music EVER. (although about once every year or so I find myself ALMOST liking ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham! I know! WHAT?! That’s absurd. If you’re going to hate CHristmas music and only make a biannual exception, it should not be anything sung by Wham! I KNOW THIS. And yet it’s true. So there.)

I don’t even like wind chimes. I don’t like to even SEE neighbors, or hear them, and i definitely do not like to hear what their houses are in the mood to SING. Go ahead – thank God right now that you are not my neighbor. I’m not offended in the slightest.

You know what it’s like? It’s like when you’re at the mall and you just want to get your Christmas shopping done, but the people in the middle of the mall are trying to stop you every two seconds and straighten your (already straight) hair, or put lotion on your (already moisturized) hands and above all of that — the sound of bad Christmas music you cannot turn off even though it’s driving you nuts because it’s coming out of the mall speakers. It’s like THAT in our neighborhood, now.

I won’t go outside much, but I wasn’t planning on it anyway I suppose.

Ever wondered why the people in the mall kiosks who straighten hair and try to sell you lotion put on fake French accents? They do that here, in West Texas, for no good reason at all that i can think of. One of these days when i’m crazy from Christmas music that i cannot escape even at home, i will be there – at the mall – and one of those people will say, “Excuse me, would you mind if I just…” and then come at me with a blazing hot Chi knockoff and that day – the day i am insane from inescapable Christmas music — i will confront that absurdity right to its face. “WHERE DID YOU GET THAT FAKE FRENCH ACCENT? DOES IT SELL MORE OF THESE? WE ARE IN WEST TEXAS. WHY DO YOU ALL HAVE TO TALK LIKE THAT? IT’S…. RIDICULOUS! AND….? I!!! HAVE!!! BORING!!! STRAIGHT!!! HAIR!!! FOR!!! FREE!!! ALREADY!!! DON’T MAKE IT ANY STRAIGHTER! AU REVOIR, AND TURN OFF THAT MUSIC!”

You know, the strange thing is, I’m in a great mood. You’d never guess, huh?